The cowskin tent became detached from her
saddle, and a moment later Nakpa stood free.
Her sides worked like a bellows as she stood
there meekly indignant, apparently considering
herself to be the victim of an uncalled-for mis-
understanding.
"I should put an arrow through her at once,
only she is not worth a good arrow," said
Shunkaska, or White Dog, the husband of
Weeko. At his wife's answer, he opened his
eyes in surprised displeasure.
"No, she shall have her own pack again.
She wants her twins. I ought never to have
taken them from her!"
Weeko approached Nakpa as she stood alone
and unfriended in the face of her little world,
all of whom considered that she had committed
the unpardonable sin. As for her, she evidently
felt that her misfortunes had not been of her
own making. She gave a hesitating, sidelong
look at her mistress.
"Nakpa, you should not have acted so. I
knew you were stronger than the others, there-
fore I gave you that load," said Weeko in a
conciliatory tone, and patted her on the nose.
Pages:
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246